THE FEAR THAT I CAN’T HATCH

I do less care about people and their sentiments

Wait, keep your thoughts slow

No, draw thy rod of judgement slowly

Don’t misinterpret my reason for this assertion
Honestly, I do hold my personal but undisclosed reasons for this

Let me roll my tongue of a linguist to your flying ears

One thing I have realised within my inner most self is
while I less care about people in a normal free range matters

However, whenever the elephant grass roofings of my hut gets the bath
of the drops of the rains my thoughts do sway me into showing some
kind of concern for others

I mean the dejected one behind my next door whom I call a Soul Neighbour

My personal attributation is like that of an ancestral land calling
out names from the ‘Book of Ghost’

My fear therein is that perhaps in the course of the rains these
people might hear their names being called for an ancestral ceremonial
feast

The foremost thing I have always maintained is
to remain unalloyed in faith and hope

In anticipation that the names of those I do hate nor cherish would
not be on the list of ancestral land call-ups

Deep within my heart I do not doubt my selfless appeal and
supplication for all mankind to remain as old as the Stones of the
Great Walls of China

But with the exhaustiveness of time and longivity
I deem ‘Odomankoma’ the ever life-giver

The honour to let the oracles of my fears shrek in it hallowness
for a journey lieth in the deep dark.

BY?Nana Arhin Tsiwah

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